The adventuring party gathers for their last meal in the comfort of Kura'stan, in the Golden Maiden Tavern. Around the morning table sits Hadrien, Vartran, Faydin, Reginald and Tilly, conversing on many matters, both light and serious. Others of the group are expected at any time, or perhaps not, as last night the wine and ale flowed as nerves were eased and extra coin was spent.
A young blonde barwench makes her way over to the table, a steaming pitcher held carefully in a hand wrapped in cloth. The Golden Maiden finds staff to meet the part, so any who fancy lovely young blond lasses enjoys very much when they sashay through the crowded room.
She arrives next to Reginald, "Sir, would you like some more of this trail brew? I hope that this morn we have blended it more to your liking." This is of course delivered with a sugary-sweetness that causes Tilly to roll her eyes.
Salaris wanders over to the table, weariness evident on his normally neutral features. He runs a hand through his black hair, wiping it away from his face with a look of slight disgust, clearly directed at his own condition.
"Please forgive me for my absence, my friends," the paladin says apologetically. He glances around and finds an empty seat at the end of the table, fumbling with the greatsword at his side to try to move it into a position where he can comfortably sit. Failing that, he simply removes the huge rune-etched blade and sets it across his knees, intentionally facing the tip away from his traveling companions to avoid any possible interpretation of disrespect.
"Good morning, Sir Salaris," says the party's resident blonde. Tilly subconsciously shifts her weight closer to Reginald and smiles at the waitress. "Could you bring a cup of cream and some sugar for mine, please? I can never drink it as dark as he does."
She looks back to the paladin and frowns a little. "You look like you didn't sleep well. Are you having nightmares too? It seems the further east we go, the worse mine get."
Vartran looks up at Tilly as she mentions her having had nightmares.
"Oh, you too...? Remind me to tell you more about the one I had in Kessid. I think it makes for a better afternoon tale. I am still trying to figure out what it could mean. It has dominated my thoughts since then. I just can't quite put the pieces together. I think it was sent by a Dragon, but I can't figure out all the elements, and I can't get them out of my head either. I was really hoping the stress of the travelling would help me shake it, but I don't think it has worked so far."
Kala Roark sits quietly on a chair near the wall, eating from a plate on her lap. Since the beginning of the journey, Kala has become increasingly withdrawn, her hair fading from dark purple into true black and her usual taciturn conversation stretching into long silences. On this last morning in Kura'stan, her hands shake slightly as she holds her plate and cup, causing a rattle. When one glances around at the sound, she can be caught looking sharply away, as if she was staring at your back.
If one has been paying close attention, one might discern that Kala never touches any living thing.
Quill emerges from the rooms above, descending the stairs into the common room of the Golden Maiden. His short dark brown hair is somewhat mussed from sleeping, and he is dressed in a simple white shirt and travel-worn trousers. He has no armament aside from an eating knife at his belt. He approaches the table where Hadrian, Vartran, Faydin, Reginald, Tilly, and Salaris sit and bows with formality.
"A good morrow to you all," he says pleasantly, "and blessings upon this venture, if the gods will it." He stands before the table, surveying the company for a moment - and sparing a wary glance for Kala, sitting near the wall - before his eyes alight on Reginald. "And blessings be upon you, Sir Reginald. Once again I must offer my gratitude for your employment of my services. I shall endeavor to make your generosity worth the investment."
As he stands, he glances down at the bowl of gruel with the spoon sticking upright in it. He glances at Hadrian. "Are you going to eat that?"
Salaris nods to Tilly sadly. "Indeed. Dark visions. Perhaps they are a warning of what we might face on the path ahead. We should ready ourselves." He taps the sword on his knee meaningfully, and then looks up as Quill approaches.
"Good morrow to you as well," he replies, scratching at his chin. "If the gods will it, indeed," he thinks to himself. "We will likely need all the help we can get."
Hadrian slides the bowl of porridge over to Quill. "Help yourself," he says, "I'm still swallowing the last spoonful I had ten minutes ago. You're the healer, right? You in it for the money like Vartran here? Or are you just hoping to get one last look at the Halgudar countryside before it's gone?"
"Pull up a chair. Salaris was just about to tell us about the nightmares he's been having." Hadrian motions a hand towards Salaris, giving him the floor. "I'm sorry, were you not...? I mean, you did say they could be warnings of some kind. Maybe Vartran or Tilly, one of you would like to share what you've been dreaming?" Hadrian twists his head to the side to look behind Vartran where Kala is sitting. He doesn't make the least bit of effort to speak softly when he says, "Kala looks like she's seen a nightmare or two. Has she spoken since you left Kessid?"
"I don't remember my dreams, thank our Blessed Mother." Tilly wears her shallow smile for a moment. "I just know they're bad." And they are. She's woken the travelers up on more than one occasion with her shouts. "I should skip the brew and go wake Scarlette." She gives Kala and Quill a nod as she departs upstairs.
"Excuse me, uh Ms. Golden Maiden? Can I have a mug, make that two, of your strongest ale, Dwarven if you have it... Based on how this meal is going, I think I am going to need all the liquid courage I can muster!", Vartran is heard to say.
A young blonde barwench makes her way over to the table, a steaming pitcher held carefully in a hand wrapped in cloth. The Golden Maiden finds staff to meet the part, so any who fancy lovely young blond lasses enjoys very much when they sashay through the crowded room.
She arrives next to Reginald, "Sir, would you like some more of this trail brew? I hope that this morn we have blended it more to your liking." This is of course delivered with a sugary-sweetness that causes Tilly to roll her eyes.
Salaris wanders over to the table, weariness evident on his normally neutral features. He runs a hand through his black hair, wiping it away from his face with a look of slight disgust, clearly directed at his own condition.
"Please forgive me for my absence, my friends," the paladin says apologetically. He glances around and finds an empty seat at the end of the table, fumbling with the greatsword at his side to try to move it into a position where he can comfortably sit. Failing that, he simply removes the huge rune-etched blade and sets it across his knees, intentionally facing the tip away from his traveling companions to avoid any possible interpretation of disrespect.
"Good morning, Sir Salaris," says the party's resident blonde. Tilly subconsciously shifts her weight closer to Reginald and smiles at the waitress. "Could you bring a cup of cream and some sugar for mine, please? I can never drink it as dark as he does."
She looks back to the paladin and frowns a little. "You look like you didn't sleep well. Are you having nightmares too? It seems the further east we go, the worse mine get."
Vartran looks up at Tilly as she mentions her having had nightmares.
"Oh, you too...? Remind me to tell you more about the one I had in Kessid. I think it makes for a better afternoon tale. I am still trying to figure out what it could mean. It has dominated my thoughts since then. I just can't quite put the pieces together. I think it was sent by a Dragon, but I can't figure out all the elements, and I can't get them out of my head either. I was really hoping the stress of the travelling would help me shake it, but I don't think it has worked so far."
Kala Roark sits quietly on a chair near the wall, eating from a plate on her lap. Since the beginning of the journey, Kala has become increasingly withdrawn, her hair fading from dark purple into true black and her usual taciturn conversation stretching into long silences. On this last morning in Kura'stan, her hands shake slightly as she holds her plate and cup, causing a rattle. When one glances around at the sound, she can be caught looking sharply away, as if she was staring at your back.
If one has been paying close attention, one might discern that Kala never touches any living thing.
Quill emerges from the rooms above, descending the stairs into the common room of the Golden Maiden. His short dark brown hair is somewhat mussed from sleeping, and he is dressed in a simple white shirt and travel-worn trousers. He has no armament aside from an eating knife at his belt. He approaches the table where Hadrian, Vartran, Faydin, Reginald, Tilly, and Salaris sit and bows with formality.
"A good morrow to you all," he says pleasantly, "and blessings upon this venture, if the gods will it." He stands before the table, surveying the company for a moment - and sparing a wary glance for Kala, sitting near the wall - before his eyes alight on Reginald. "And blessings be upon you, Sir Reginald. Once again I must offer my gratitude for your employment of my services. I shall endeavor to make your generosity worth the investment."
As he stands, he glances down at the bowl of gruel with the spoon sticking upright in it. He glances at Hadrian. "Are you going to eat that?"
Salaris nods to Tilly sadly. "Indeed. Dark visions. Perhaps they are a warning of what we might face on the path ahead. We should ready ourselves." He taps the sword on his knee meaningfully, and then looks up as Quill approaches.
"Good morrow to you as well," he replies, scratching at his chin. "If the gods will it, indeed," he thinks to himself. "We will likely need all the help we can get."
Hadrian slides the bowl of porridge over to Quill. "Help yourself," he says, "I'm still swallowing the last spoonful I had ten minutes ago. You're the healer, right? You in it for the money like Vartran here? Or are you just hoping to get one last look at the Halgudar countryside before it's gone?"
"Pull up a chair. Salaris was just about to tell us about the nightmares he's been having." Hadrian motions a hand towards Salaris, giving him the floor. "I'm sorry, were you not...? I mean, you did say they could be warnings of some kind. Maybe Vartran or Tilly, one of you would like to share what you've been dreaming?" Hadrian twists his head to the side to look behind Vartran where Kala is sitting. He doesn't make the least bit of effort to speak softly when he says, "Kala looks like she's seen a nightmare or two. Has she spoken since you left Kessid?"
"I don't remember my dreams, thank our Blessed Mother." Tilly wears her shallow smile for a moment. "I just know they're bad." And they are. She's woken the travelers up on more than one occasion with her shouts. "I should skip the brew and go wake Scarlette." She gives Kala and Quill a nod as she departs upstairs.
"Excuse me, uh Ms. Golden Maiden? Can I have a mug, make that two, of your strongest ale, Dwarven if you have it... Based on how this meal is going, I think I am going to need all the liquid courage I can muster!", Vartran is heard to say.
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